


Maggie Sawyer's 14 Year Old Valentines Day - Or How Maggie Came to Hate Valentines Day

by MplsGal



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9955676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MplsGal/pseuds/MplsGal
Summary: On Supergirl in S2E13 we learned about Maggie's awful 14 year old Valentines day when she was outed.  I thought it deserved a story. So here you go.





	

Maggie’s 14 Year Old Valentine’s Day – Or how Maggie Came to Hate Valentine’s Day

Little Maggie couldn’t wait for Valentine’s Day. And it was finally here. She was so excited. Her heart was pounding so hard all day she couldn’t hear a word her teachers were saying. She was 14 years old, it was Valentine’s Day, and she had just let the girl she couldn’t stop thinking about know she loved her. Her Valentine’s Day card was, right now, at this moment, sitting in Eliza Wilke’s locker. Now it was just a matter of time until they could both say what they had always wanted to say to each other.

But Maggie was a bit confused. It was 3:30 p.m. already. It had been hours. She didn’t understand why she hadn’t from Eliza, even after school at their regular meeting place where they’d giggle as they walked home from school together, but she guessed Eliza had to stay after school and just forgot to tell her. She’d just be on pins and needles tonight waiting for the phone call to come: “Yes, Maggie, Yes. I so want to go to this Friday’s Valentine’s Day dance with you! I was going to ask you!” The smile would not leave her face.

The first thing Maggie noticed when she walked in her home was the big red heart balloon in the living room. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie” her mother called from the kitchen. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mom,” Maggie returned as she set her book bag down and gave her mom a hug. 

Her mom was an older version of Maggie; silky dark hair, shoulder length, rounder face than little Maggie’s, and the dimples that make Maggie Maggie were there. 

“Would you like to ice the cake?”

“Sure” Maggie offered as she picked up the knife and started to spread the red icing on the two-tiered cake. Her mom always made a big deal about this day, a day Maggie always looked forward to. Love, and hugs, and cards, and cake. Nothing better.

At dinner that night Maggie was surprised she had still not heard from Eliza. Maggie had called her before dinner, but there was no answer. So she waited. The napkins had red hearts; the candles were white and red, there were even love songs playing on the cd player. A perfect Valentine’s Day family dinner. 

“Honey, can you pass the lasagna?” her dad asked. He had just gotten home, sitting down to dinner with a “love you, Mags” kiss on her head. He could be gruff sometimes, but not today. Ellen Sawyer’s lasagna was a favorite rare treat for the Sawyer family. Somewhat balding, stocky, and short, Bob Sawyer was typically all-business. Hard worker, strict father, loyal husband. He hoped to teach those traits to his only child.

As dinner talk moved on, the phone FINALLY rang. Maggie jumped to get it. “Sit” her father demanded. “It’s dinner-time. I’ll tell them to call back.” He got up to answer the phone while Maggie squirmed in her chair. “Shoot. I’ll need to wait to call her back until after dinner.” The frustration was palpable, but the dimples never left her face.

Maggie didn’t understand why her father was taking so long. Why would he be talking her best friend? Must not be Eliza, which started to concern Maggie. Eliza and she rarely went this long without connecting.

Maggie and her mother looked up as her father silently came back into the dining room. “What’s wrong, honey?” her mom asked, seeing the anger on his face. “Margaret Ellen – do you have something you need to tell us” he fumed, standing over her. 

Maggie heart started to pound, even though she didn’t know what he wanted. What could she have possibly done wrong?

“No.”

“Try again!” She was silent. Shaking.

“Honey,” said her mother. “What is wrong?”

“Our daughter is in love – with a girl!” His words came out forced. Strong. “What in the world is wrong with you? We did not raise you like this!” Maggie couldn’t move. She was frozen staring at her dinner plate as her heart seemed to leap out of her chest. “What happened?” She thought. “How does he know about the card? Where is Eliza? I don’t understand.”

Her mother stood, moving between Maggie and her father. “What happened? Who was on the phone? What…?”

“Mark Wilke. Seems our little Maggie is in love with HIS DAUGHTER.”

Silence. Panicked silence. Maggie shook. It was a secret. Didn’t Eliza understand? Wait….why would Eliza’s dad call….OMG… “I was wrong. I was wrong? She doesn’t like me like that?” Then she realized she was hearing a droan of a sound behind her; her dad was still talking; yelling. What word was he using? “Pervert.” Maggie’s face scrunched up confused.

“Maggie!” Maggie snapped out of her confusion at her mother’s voice. “Your father is talking to you.” Her father jerked her chair to face them. “Is this true?” Silence. She couldn’t say the words out loud, mostly because she didn’t really understand what she was feeling. All she knew was Eliza Wilke was her heart and soul and to dance with her would be heaven to little 14 year old Maggie.

But right now she was listening to her dad. She had no choice since her face was in his hands. “Maggie. No. I will not have that in my home. Tell me that is not true. Tell me you made a mistake. Tell me!”

Maggie could hardly process what was happening. A minute ago she was happy, looking at the red Valentine’s decorations on the table, the balloon, reading her sweet card from her parents. Now? Tension. Sadness. Anger. What is he asking me to say? She tried to focus. ‘I made a mistake.’ She thought. About…Eliza? 

“I-I—“ He was waiting. Her mother was waiting. Then, for now, her confusion ended. She set her little 14 year old self firmly in her chair. “I didn’t make any mistake. I love her.”

She was not prepared for what happened next. His eyes flashed. “Go to your room. NOW!” Maggie bolted, glad to leave. She jumped on her bed, knees squeezed up to her face, arms pulling them in close. And only then could cry. She learned today to feel her strong feelings privately; never again comfortable showing true emotion, being vulnerable. It’s what her parents taught her. 

But she wasn’t so emotional she could not hear her parents’ talking. She could only make out words here and there. “She’s an embarrassment to me.” “How did this happen?” “I won’t have it.”

Suddenly she could hear stomps as her father bolted into her room, angrier than before: “You’re gay?” Maggie lifted her eyes from her knees, saw her parents, and quickly wiped the tears from her face. “Fine. Be gay. But not in my home! I won’t have you in this home,” he continued angrily, meeting her stare for stare. “I won’t have you embarrassing me in front of our neighbors, our friends. No daughter of mine is going to be a…” he couldn’t say the word. “Get. Out.”

Suddenly Maggie’s sad, confused eyes turned cold. She glared. She didn’t know she could turn so cold so fast. “Fine.” She’d be damned if he, or anyone, would see her weak. She learned this now, at 14. She didn’t know it today, but it would be a lesson that would take 16 years to unlearn, at the hands of her true love.

“Bob, she’s only 14…” her mom pleaded.

“No matter” he said as he pulled her suitcase from the closet and started throwing her clothes in it. “She brought this on herself. She thinks she’s so adult. Then she can BE an adult. Begin that perverted little adult life she wants so badly. But not in my home. Maybe she and Eliza can go off together,” he finished sarcastically. 

At the mention of Eliza’s name, Maggie startled. What of Eliza? Why didn’t she call me? Wait… Then Maggie made the ultimate mistake: She asked her dad about Eliza. “Did you talk to Eliza? What did she say?”

Her dad stopped packing. “Eliza? Eliza Wilke!! Huh. Yeah. Eliza wants nothing to do with you. You scared her, Maggie! She showed her parents your Valentine because you scared her.”

Little Maggie didn’t know which felt worse – that she scared Eliza or that her father was kicking her out. The rock in her stomach didn’t care. Her 14 year old self couldn’t process her feelings; all she knew was she was in pain. A lot of pain. 

“Bob,” her mother finally had something to say. “We cannot just kick her out.”

“Yes, we can. End of discussion.” Maggie knew that was that. Her mother was not the strongest women in the world. 

And now, as realization came over her, Maggie was the one who was scared. “Where will I go?”

Finally her mother took charge -- of what she could take charge of. She knew Maggie was leaving. “Bob, why don’t you go pour a scotch and let me finish this” indicating the messy suitcase. Maggie had still not moved from her bed, knees up protecting her heart, eyes unblinking.

“Fine!” Glaring at Maggie he walked out of her bedroom. The tension immediately lessened. Whew. Now maybe things could go back to normal, Maggie bleakly hoped. Maybe we could turn back the clock. Go back to this morning when everything was right and happy and normal. Back when Maggie was just a simple, happy, loved 8th grader. 

“Mom. I’m not really leaving, am I?” 

Maggie’s mom hung her head. “Yes. You are.” She looked at Maggie and said the words no child ever wants to hear. “I am so disappointed in you.” Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes. “Unless,” her mom faced her. “Tell me this is just a phase. That you didn’t mean it. She’s just a good friend, right?”

Maggie hung her head. “I don’t know” she said honestly. This was too much emotion for her little shoulders too bear. Maybe it was a phase. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Eliza is, or was, just a good friend. 

Except there was her heart. Her dumb stupid heart. “No, mom, it’s not a phase.”

Sigh. “Well, then, come over here and finish packing.” For the first time in an hour Maggie moved off her Xena spreadsheet. She reluctantly started adding Ivory soap and some shampoo while her mother left to get her purse. When she returned, Maggie’s suitcase was zipped shut. “Come sit with me,” her mother patted a spot on the twin bed.

Ellen handed Maggie a piece of paper and $20. “Here is Aunt Liz’s address and $20. She did not answer, but I called a cab. Have them take you here. I don’t know what she will say, but she loves you. I’m hopeful you will at least have somewhere to stay for the night” she said flatly. 

Maggie couldn’t believe it was happening. Really happening. “What did I do wrong?” 

“You embarrassed us.” 

They could both hear her father ranting louder in the kitchen, the scotch taking over. “And I think it’s time for you to go.” They looked at each other. “I love you, hon.” She held her tight. Maggie stiffened. “I will always love you. But…I don’t like what you are becoming. So…” They pulled a part. “Time to go.”

Maggie’s heart turned colder. It had to if she was going to walk out the door with her truth.

With her left hand on the front door and her right pulling her suitcase, she turned to look at the only place she had ever known. With the red heart balloon, red table cloth, red-iced Valentine’s Day cake still waiting, she stealed herself. She saw her father in the kitchen. They met stares. He slurred “be safe.” She muttered “fuck you.” 

That was the last thing she ever spoke to her father. He died three years later.

 

Looking out the window of the cab on the way to Aunt Liz’s, little Maggie’s red eyes overfilled. “Geez, how many tears do we have?” she flustered as she looked out at the windows of candy stores filled with Valentine’s day candy, liquor store signs with Valentine’s day specials, grocery store signs with Valentine day discounts. “God, I hate Valentine’s Day” she sighed as she wiped away her tears. Which will be true for 16 years.

Maggie knocked gently, frightened, at Aunt Liz’s front door. She had no idea what Aunt Liz would say. What she would say. Aunt Liz came to the door and saw a sad little girl with the big brown glistening eyes and a too big suitcase. Aunt Liz, dark complexion, dark hair, and a little over weight, but only 15 years older than Maggie herself. She always had a big smile and quick wit.

“Hi Aunt Liz. Um…I…” But she was stopped with a wonderfully smothering hug. 

“Hi Magpie.”

“You expected me?”

“Your mom called.” She held Maggie out to look at her deeply. “I love you.” At that Maggie’s tears gushed as she crumbled. Her strong, cold, stoic little self was finally worn-out. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” her Aunt said as they walked into her home. “I don’t know what is about to happen. I don’t know if you are here a day, a week, or longer. But you will always be safe here.”

She paused for a response, but Maggie couldn’t talk. 

“Magpie, no matter what, know that you deserve a real, full, happy life.” All little Maggie could do was nod.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> Comments welcome


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